Author's Note: All of the scenes and dialogue herein were written by Brannon Braga, except for the scene in sickbay that was just begging to be added. This is my first P/C story, so feedback is greatly appreciated.

I am surrounded by pleasure. Suffused with it, alive with it. It fills me fully – my body arches with bliss.

A noise at the edge of my senses intrudes. It's unimportant, I decide. Nothing worth disturbing this newfound intimacy, which is utterly unlike anything I've experienced before.

Then as if through a thick fog, and from what seems like a very long distance away, I hear a deep, accented voice rumble, "Beverly?"

Startled, I realize, I know that voice – "Jean-Luc." Self-consciously I draw my open robe around my thin nightdress and get to my feet, sweeping Ronin's candle off the table beside me to see more clearly in the evening gloom of Nana's cottage.

"Sorry I startled you. I knocked but there was no answer. The door was open. I hope you don't mind."

His voice is mild, friendly, and yet I feel as if I'm being rudely awakened from a most vivid and intense dream. I can't seem to shake off the stupor in which I find myself – my brain is slow and dull. What are you doing here? Why have you followed me? "What do you want?"

"Well, I'd hoped to meet your new friend, Ronin."

"He's not here." But I can feel him near. Oh so near. I feel his aura like a cocoon all around me.

"Well, perhaps I could wait, if you don't mind. I'm really anxious to meet this remarkable young man who swept away not just one, but two, of the Howard women."

I can hear a note of something strained in his voice, and draw near to look him in the face. His normally clear hazel eyes are dark and stormy. I can't believe it. He's actually jealous… "Jealousy doesn't suit you, Jean-Luc." For some reason I cannot fathom my voice is wavering as I speak.

He ignores it, gazes at me keenly. "Have you…have you changed the color of your eyes?"

My mind feels heavy, clouded, like a damp blanket has settled over my thoughts. Yet somehow I know without knowing how that my eyes are no longer blue, but green. Why does he care about something so trivial? "I…I…I just grew tired of the other color." I raise a tentative hand to the side of my face. What's wrong with having green eyes? "Don't you think it suits me?"

"I think that I preferred your eyes the way they were before. I think I preferred you the way you were before, Beverly."

I don't care. Go away, Jean-Luc. "Well, this is the way I am now. And this is my life." I'm now bristling at this unexpected, and unwanted, intrusion. Why won't you just go away? "I've made my decision and I'm not going to change my mind, so please leave me alone." My mounting frustration gets the better of me and I try to push him away.

He resists me gently but firmly. "Oh, no, there's something's wrong here. Now, Beverly, this is more than just an obsessive love affair that has got out of hand. Tell me, why is it that no one has seen this Ronin except you?"

His words sting, and I'm uncertain how to reply. Why? I don't know why. It doesn't matter. I've seen him, and he's mine.

Then to my relief I hear Ronin's voice ringing down from upstairs. "All right, Captain. Here I am."

He slowly comes down the staircase, the tread of his boots heavy on the old wood. Ronin! You're here. I smile, feeling as though my whole world has appeared before me. I fix my eyes on his.

"I believe Beverly asked you to leave her alone."

I did. I tried. I go at once to his side. I feel safe with you, protected. At home.

"So, you're Ronin," Jean-Luc intones conversationally, not having moved a muscle. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Where are you from?"

"Earth. Scotland."

"How long have you been on Caldos?"

Ronin's voice is flat. "All that matters is that I'm here now, and that Beverly and I plan to be together for the rest our lives."

Yes. The rest of our lives. Just like Nana. I lay my cheek against Ronin's coat as his arm tightens comfortably around my waist.

Jean-Luc's combadge activates. I hear Data's familiar voice. "Data to Picard."

"Go ahead, Data."

"Captain, we have located the source of the energy residual. It appears to be concentrated within Felisa Howard's coffin."

Now Geordi La Forge's voice comes through. "Captain, we'd like permission to exhume the body."

Their words have nothing to do with Ronin, or me, so I let them flow from my mind. They're not important. Nothing is, besides Ronin and me. I feel a pleasant lethargy settling over me once more.

But Ronin quickly intercedes. "You can't do that. Leave her alone."

"Why not? What are you afraid of?" Jean-Luc demands.

"I'm not afraid of anything," Ronin replies calmly. "But I cannot allow you to desecrate her grave."

"Data, ask Governor Maturin's permission to exhume the body. Picard out."

"I won't stand for this," Ronin fumes. He steps forward to confront Jean-Luc. "I'll go to the Governor myself."

"Go on," Jean-Luc challenges him. "I wouldn't be surprised if he doesn't know who you are. He'll probably have the same questions that I do. How did you get here? What ship did you come on?"

I can't stop staring at Jean-Luc. He sounds genuinely perturbed. I've so rarely heard him like this. But Ronin's affairs – and now, mine – are none of his business. We're not on the Enterprise and I'm no longer under his command. He has no reason to attack Ronin this way. I shake my head at him warningly. "Jean-Luc, leave him alone."

But he continues undeterred, his voice rising with anger as he fires question after question at Ronin.

Ronin stands silently as Jean-Luc's rapid-fire words wash over us. Then, without the slightest warning, he simply…dissolves…into a fine green mist and disappears.

Jean-Luc and I stare at the empty space, uncomprehending. What just happened? Ronin, my love? Where have you gone? I can't begin to process what just took place.

Then Jean-Luc speaks, his voice loud and urgent in the still night air. "Come on, Beverly, we've gotta get out of here."

He takes a step towards the door but I'm still rooted to the spot. Ronin? I can still feel him, all around me. Where are you? What's going on?

Jean-Luc stops and reaches back for my hand. But before he can grasp it he's struck down by a powerful surge of greenish energy. He cries out and falls to the floor, instantly unconscious.

No! "Jean-Luc!" Horrified, I rush to him, pressing my hands to his chest. He doesn't seem to be breathing. He's too still.

No!

My tricorder. I reach for the medical bag on the table beside the door and carry it to kneel at Jean-Luc's side. Instinctively I know that this is what happened to Ned Quint. The energy – somehow Ronin used the energy to kill him.

As I fumble for the tricorder my sense of Ronin's presence fades and my only focus becomes the man lying prone before me. He could die. Jean-Luc, no, I beg him silently, please don't die.

I hear Ronin's disembodied voice. "Beverly, we must stop the others. They cannot exhume the body!"

Once again I feel his presence everywhere about me. His love, his desire, filling my mind. Yes, I love you. We are meant to be together. But Jean-Luc...

No! "We can't just leave him. He might die." My captain. My best friend. My – faint yet vaguely discernable – promise of something more. Come on, Jean-Luc, stay with me. Stay with me, my love.

"You must come," Ronin shouts from behind me, his voice thick with fury. "I am your love! I am the one who will take care of you."

No! I can't leave him. I all but spit the words. "I can't just let him die!"

My fingers tremble as I fumble with the tricorder, trying to get a reading.

"Beverly, come with me!" Ronin rematerializes in human form beside me, gripping my arms and trying to pull me to my feet.

But the intensity of my fear for Jean-Luc momentarily cuts through the suffocating haze that Ronin's reappearance induces in my mind. I won't! I have to stay! "No!" I try to push Ronin's hands away but they're too strong and he won't let go.

"No!" I cry again in frustration. Frantically I thrust him away from me, breathing as hard as if I've been running. I force myself to concentrate as I finally get the tricorder operating, assessing Jean-Luc's condition.

I barely register Ronin's whispered words behind me. "I'm sorry. I'm going to stop them."

Once again his essence surges through me, filling me with an overwhelming sense of passion, protectiveness, pleasure and desire. I can feel the promise of his love throughout my body, almost on a cellular level, evoking a shuddering breath from my very core. The urge to go with him is instinctive, primal.

But I cannot. Jean-Luc needs me. I force my fingers across the buttons on my tricorder that will analyze the data and present the appropriate treatment.

I hear his footsteps walk away, withdrawing with them both the promise and the pleasure. I feel anguish – his or my own, I cannot tell. Involuntarily I double over, my free hand rising protectively to my head, fighting back tears. I gasp with pain, feeling physically sick inside.

But insistently the thought resurfaces: Must help Jean-Luc… Yes. I drop one hand briefly to his chest and then pick out a hypospray from the bag by my side, ready to act the instant the information comes through.

"Come on, come on," I whisper raggedly. Exhorting my mind to focus. Exhorting Jean-Luc to stay with me. Exhorting my tricorder to hurry. Finally the readout appears: 30% adrenalin, 42% serotonin, 28% saline. Good. I have the right hypospray.

With shaking hands I ready it and inject the solution into Jean-Luc's neck. To my relief he responds immediately, and I drop the injector to gently cradle his cheek as consciousness returns. That's right, Jean-Luc, come back to me. I couldn't bear to lose you…

"I'm all right, Beverly – go after him," he breathes, his barely-open eyes catching and holding mine. "Go to the cemetery."

It is less of a command than an entreaty, but despite my reluctance to leave him until I know for certain he'll be all right I now have sufficient presence of mind to recognize what's at stake. I nod and head quickly for the door – remembering to take the candle with me.

I walk into the cemetery toward Nana's grave, carrying the now-blazing candle before me, just in time to witness the body of my dead grandmother sit up in her coffin and electrocute both La Forge and Data with the same greenish energy that had felled Jean-Luc. It's Ronin, it must be. This is wrong! He has to stop!

"No!" I scream as Nana's body turns in my direction.

"Ronin, stop this," I plead, my voice shaking, my hand clenching into a fist as I stare at this violation of the woman I loved most in all the galaxy. "Stop this, please." No more! I can't bear it.

"Beverly, it's all right," she says. "Have trust in me."

"You're not Nana. Nana's dead." Ronin has pushed me beyond all endurance. "Leave her alone!" I scream.

"Beverly!" he shouts from behind me, startling me down the steps towards Nana's coffin. "Forgive me. These men were trying to stop us from being together. Once they're gone everything will be right."

My mind is clearer now. "No, it won't. You've been infusing me with the same sort of anaphasic energy that killed Quint."

Ronin opens his arms wide, supplicating. "He was trying to destroy me! I had to defend myself." His voice drops low. "My love, I could never harm you. I am here to protect you."

If only it was true. "No, you're not," I reply, one hand unconsciously lifting towards him. "There's no such thing as a ghost. You are some sort of anaphasic life form." Yes, this is all starting to make sense. What do I know about anaphasic energy? Think! "Anaphasic energy is extremely unstable. It needs an organic host in order to maintain the molecular cohesion," I slowly continue, thinking aloud, my hand once again clenching into a fist, "or else you'll die – isn't that right?" I finish, knowing that I'm not mistaken.

"Beverly –"

"I also scanned the candle, the flame is plasma-based," I press on, a spark of anger growing in me with each word. "You were using it as a receptacle for yourself in order to get to me. In order to merge with me." How dare you! "You have been using me, Nana, my entire family, for centuries!"

"And I loved all of them!" he roars, his handsome face pinched with pain. "And they loved me!"

I gasp, seeing the tears that shine in his eyes. He means it. He loved them all. He loves me.

"Give me the candle, Beverly," he entreats.

Oh, I want to. I do want to, but I can't. If I do, you might kill again. "No. No!" I cannot.

To my horror he reaches out and strikes Geordi's prone body with another pulse of anaphasic energy. Just like Quint…

"Put it down," Ronin demands, "Or I will kill him. Set it down and walk away."

The clear threat in his voice chills me. I have no choice. I slowly do as he says, setting the candle down on the low stone wall and backing away. And I have no choice but to do this, now that I know exactly what you are. An energy creature that will kill without remorse. I whirl and grab Geordi's phaser, then fire it at the candle which disappears without a trace.

"No!" Ronin howls.

Without pausing I turn back to Geordi's unconscious form and activate his combadge. Tell Will what to do, I urge myself. Quickly! "Crusher to Riker. Will, close off all the plasma conduits in the weather control system. I'll explain later."

"Understood," comes the response.

Ronin creeps forward and crouches down next to where the candle used to be.

I rise and move towards him, holding the phaser steady before me. I breathe a ghost of a laugh. No candle, no receptacle. I've done it, I've won. "You've nowhere left to go."

But I don't anticipate his next words. "Yes," he says hoarsely. "I do."

I understand immediately. He means me. He wants me. No. I won't allow it. "Keep away from me."

I can feel him reaching out to me as his arms open wide and he steps forward.

No. I won't let you come near me again. You seduced me, and Nana. And you tried to kill Jean-Luc. The man I've known for more than twenty years. The man who has been my best friend throughout all my time on the Enterprise. The flesh and blood man whom I do truly love.

I sight carefully, remembering my Starfleet training. Although the target is large, I cannot afford the luxury of missing the shot.

I squeeze the trigger and my aim is true.

The beam strikes Ronin square in the chest, knocking him backwards. "Beverly, I love you," he breathes, then almost leaps towards me.

Shocked, I fire again, hitting him once more in the chest. This time he disappears for good, just as the candle had done.

I drop the phaser and clamp my hands over my eyes. The tears are coming, pressing fast against my eyelids, and I can't stop them. Ronin is gone. He's gone. Forever. It's over.

I don't grieve for long. Geordi and Data need me, just as Jean-Luc did. I crawl to Geordi's still motionless body and press his combadge. "Transporter room, three to beam directly to sickbay."

"Understood," comes the immediate reply.

"Energize."

An instant later we materialize on the Enterprise.

It is well into the third shift by now, ship's time, and only two members of my staff are on duty in the otherwise deserted room. They leap into action to attend to Geordi and Data, and if they're shocked at seeing their CMO appear before them clad in nothing but a nightdress and robe they're kind enough not to show any sign of it in their faces. I move to join them and together we tend to our two comrades.

Once I confirm that Geordi and Data are recovering I slip into my office for my spare lab coat, sliding it on over my thin nightclothes. Just the weight of it alone makes me feel more professional, less vulnerable, and the nightmare I've just experienced begins to recede from my mind a little bit. As I turn back towards the door a familiar figure fills the space before me.

"Jean-Luc!" I cry. I can barely contain my joy at seeing him on his feet and looking no worse for wear. And yet…looks can be deceiving. "Are you all right?"

"Yes." A beat. "Are you all right?" The warmth and concern suffusing his voice sends a shiver down my spine. There is no sign of the anger he had shown down on Caldos. But then, that anger had never been directed at me – even though I'd just abruptly resigned my post and left the ship without even having the decency to tell him why I was going.

"Yes." I drop my gaze so he won't see the pain, the embarrassment, that I feel. You nearly died because of me. You only came to help, even after I threw everything we had – our working relationship, our precious friendship – away without a backwards glance.

I've hurt you, I know. Though he tries to hide it, I can see it in his eyes, and the thought of it pains me. I recall the look on his face when I beamed down to Nana's cottage – as though he'd just had his heart torn out of his chest.

I know he won't blame me, won't speak one word of censure or reproach at my reckless, callous behavior. In a way that almost makes it worse. I have no one to blame me but myself. Yet I deserve it and must try to apologize. Make amends.

But first I need to make sure he's all right. I drag him onto a biobed and check him over once again with a tricorder. He permits me to fuss over him, like I always do, and I can feel the familiarity of our interaction begin to stabilize my still-volatile emotions.

His readings are completely normal, and I breathe a sigh of relief as I look down at him. I came altogether too close to losing you this time.

"Jean-Luc, I'm sorry." My words come out more tentative than I would like. I wonder if he can somehow sense how bittersweet these events have been for me.

"Beverly – " he starts, no doubt ready to say something soothing and kind, but I put a hand up to forestall him. Better than anyone else I know his generous heart, and I know that he's already forgiven me – perhaps he even feels that there's nothing to forgive. But I can't accept his forgiveness until he's accepted my apology. My deepest regrets.

"No, Jean-Luc, let me say this." I place one hand lightly on his chest as he gets to his feet. "I'm so sorry. I left you here with barely a word, and then when you followed me down to Caldos you were nearly killed."

"You weren't responsible," he rejoins. "That creature used you –"

"It seduced me," I interrupt. "Just like it seduced the women in my family for generations." I can't tell him the truth. I can't tell him that I wanted Ronin, that I welcomed him. Because loving him – without any past history, any duties, any risks to come between us – would be easier than loving the man who stands before me now.

"Yes, but you stopped him, his energy has been dispersed. It's over," Jean-Luc reminds me, mercifully oblivious to my train of thought.

Yes, it's over. But – a part of me wishes it wasn't.

"And I'm sorry," he adds quietly.

"I know." I'm grateful for that. For everything. My heart fills, that somehow he understands how difficult this has been for me. "Jean-Luc, thank you." For coming after me. For caring. For bringing me back to myself.

He smiles, one of the rare, genuine smiles he seems to reserve just for me. "That's what friends are for."

"Yes," I whisper in reply, knowing that some friends are so much more than that.

Deanna, of course, is burning with curiosity about what happened, and eagerly plies me with questions as soon as we're both off duty the next day. As we enter Ten Forward with our refreshments I answer as best I can, explaining what I understand of Ronin's origins and biology, trying to bring my medical detachment to bear as I look back over the situation.

"Somehow, he realized that one of my ancestors had a biochemistry that was compatible with his energy matrix." I sink into a chair by the viewport and set my drink on a nearby table. "I imagine that he took on human form, and seduced her like he seduced me."

It's hard to believe, but… "I was about to be initiated into a very unusual relationship." Unusual is one word for it. But I don't suppose I have a better one – at least not one I want to share. "You might call it a family tradition." An eight hundred year old tradition. Until Jean-Luc intervened. And thank goodness he did. Still… "But there's a part of me that's a little sad."

Deanna frowns, clearly not understanding what I mean. "How so?"

"I re-read the entries in my grandmother's journals." The very graphic entries. The testaments to their love. Thinking about them brings a smile, small and wistful. "Whatever else he might have done, he made her very happy." And part of me wonders what it would be like to experience that kind of passion, that all-consuming happiness.

Now, thanks to Jean-Luc, I'll never know.

FIN